


late bloom

by ewagan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8716249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewagan/pseuds/ewagan
Summary: In the spring of his twenty-third year, Oikawa Tooru breaks up with his first love.





	

In the spring of his twenty-third year, Oikawa Tooru breaks up with his first love.

 

* * *

 

躑躅 _tsutsuji_ azalea

patience

 

He wonders if it's possible to predict the trajectory of a relationship, the ways two people can come together and part, the times where their bond is a solid thing that cannot be broken and where it frays, held together only by hope and sheer stubbornness. He wonders what happens if one of them is a rocket ship, yearning to tear free of gravity and chart its own course through the unknown spaces, to keep moving forward.

He thinks he doesn't know how not to be in love with Iwaizumi Hajime, even though they're not together anymore. How do you stop loving someone you've known and loved your whole life, because he can't do it. But he takes a deep breath and he reminds himself that love can change, and maybe he'll always be a bit in love with Iwa-chan, but that's okay. One day he'll figure out how to love someone else, and it won't be the same because Iwa-chan was his first kiss, his first love, his first everything, but he thinks that'll be okay also.

He'll learn in time. He always does.

 

* * *

 

紫苑 _shion_ aster

remembrance

 

"Hey Mattsun?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you and Makki break up?" The question is meant to be flippant, but it comes out vulnerable, and maybe a little bit too raw. Matsukawa doesn't comment on it though. He's always been the kindest of them, in the ways that mattered most.

"We both grew up, and we wanted different things." he says after a pause. "Despite everything, I think we grew apart." What he doesn't say is this: that perhaps it was because of everything, because when you're too close it hurts almost as much as distance does. That you learn to live with little pieces of unhappiness tucked into your pocket, that sometimes there isn't even really a reason for it, it just means that you aren't the same anymore and neither are they.

"Did you think it would work?" Oikawa's leaning his forehead against the glass while it rains, and he looks so lost that Matsukawa's not sure what to say either.

"Once." He admits softly. "I thought we’d do the whole thing you know. Get a dog, move to the city or just somewhere together. Probably stay together until we were really old and I’d wake up and to find that he finished my coffee or something." Matsukawa’s contemplative as he considers the question. “Maybe I didn’t think so much as assumed, because I never figured out what the in between was. Like, between now and us being old. Maybe that was ultimately why it didn’t work out.” There’s something terribly honest and pensive about the way he says the words, as if he had more regrets about it than he’d have admitted.

“I’m sorry.” The words are softly whispered.

“Me too.”

 

* * *

 

椿 _tsubaki_ camellia

waiting (longing)

 

There is a strangeness to waiting, a moment of suspension. He thinks about it this way, as he waits for the tears to stop, wondering how is it he still has tears to cry.There had to be an end to it, sometime.

It doesn’t stop Oikawa from missing the things that used to be, for lazy summer days catching fireflies, late night volleyball practices, walking home with Iwa-chan after school. Those are days past, and January always leaves him maudlin as people declare their intentions for the year, filled with a fresh determination that seems much more suited for spring.

This is the first New Year’s he hasn’t gone to a shrine with Iwa-chan in a long time. Instead, he fingers the omamori his mother had given him, with a kiss to his forehead even though she is a full head shorter than him. And as much as he longs for hazy summer heat days, he knows they are over.

He waits, until his heart is more forgiving, far kinder. He waits until he knows his fragile heart is ready to love again, and love differently this time.

 

* * *

 

牡丹 _botan_ peony

courage (sincerity)

 

It doesn’t hurt when Iwa-chan introduces them to Akane. She’s pleasant enough, with a sweet smile and a sort of shyness to her. She has lovely hands, Oikawa notes. He can see why she appeals to Iwa-chan.

He behaves himself, really. He tells her embarrassing childhood stories about Iwa-chan, with Hanamaki and Matsukawa supplementing where high school was involved. He laughs it off when Iwa-chan scowls at him. He’s charming and gracious as he slowly wheedles out her life story, finding out she’s from Kanagawa and she went to Kyoto for university.

Between him and Hanamaki, they tease her gently until she’s blushing prettily and Iwa-chan is sending him menacing glares while not very subtly kicking his shins under the table. The bruised shins are worth it though, when he sees Iwa-chan smile with genuine fondness. He’s more quiet after that, sipping at his milkshake and contributing the occasional witty remark as Matsukawa tells them about a client of his.

(He’s lying. It hurts. It hurts so much Oikawa feels like someone had punched him in the stomach and then hit him over the head for good measure.

But it also doesn’t hurt as much as he’d thought it would.)

 

“That was brave of you.” Matsukawa comments, when they’re in the train on the way home. Oikawa doesn’t feel very brave though.

“I want him to be happy too, you know.” he says instead. It’s not really an answer, just honesty. The _even if it’s not with me_ hangs in the air between them, unsaid.

The train rattles on.

 

* * *

 

サンザシ _sanzashi_ hawthorn

hope (new light)

 

He starts a small garden on their tiny balcony, carefully nurturing a marigold plant. It takes time, but so does he. They grow together, as Oikawa learns to laugh like he used to, and he learns to stop missing Iwa-chan so much. Not that he hadn’t missed Iwa-chan in university, but he thinks it was different then than it was now.

He wakes up early in the mornings and goes out for a light run. Sometimes Matsukawa comes with him, but more often than not he returns to breakfast and coffee.

It’s startling to realize that thinking about Iwa-chan doesn’t hurt anymore, that now it is tinged with something like wistfulness and nostalgia. Not to say he doesn’t think about Iwa-chan, because he still thinks about Iwa-chan perhaps more than he should, but it’s easier now.

He thinks that he is okay now, that maybe it is time he found a new love, something different. Maybe in another lifetime, it would be Iwa-chan he wakes up to in the mornings, but it is just as easy to wake up to Matsukawa’s sleeping face, to brush the ever messy hair off his forehead before he slips out of bed.

It’s not like the early days, when he’d ask Matsukawa to hold him just so he wouldn’t feel so bereft, not after so many years of learning to fit himself around Iwa-chan. When it was comforting to know that someone would still hold him, pretend not to hear the quiet sniffling until he was ready, to simply be there.

Matsukawa had always been too kind a friend, and Oikawa wonders if it would be different to love Matsukawa that way, even as he stares at the expanse of Matsukawa’s back in front of him.

He traces over Matsukawa’s shoulderblades, worn cotton laid over delicate skin, stretched over hard bone. Something about it feels impossibly fragile.

“They say that this is all that’s left of our wings.” he says, voice soft. “Or what wings we used to have.”

 _Maybe we wanted too much_ , is what he doesn’t say. Oikawa presses a kiss between his shoulder blades. It is an apology, but it is also not one.

"You’ve never needed wings to fly." Matsukawa’s voice is soft and sleepy, and Oikawa feels something in his chest clench with fondness and appreciation.

He nurtures the feelings in his heart, something that grows in silences and conversations about nothing, finds it in unexpected places like the bottom of his coffee mug, or on lazy Sunday mornings when he’s back from his run and Matsukawa is still huddled underneath the covers. It grows and blooms into something that he doesn’t have a name for, but maybe it is not wrong to call it love.

He thinks about telling Matsukawa this, but words are difficult and for all Oikawa’s many comebacks, this has always failed him. So he says _thank you_ when he means _I love you_ , accepts the _I know_ in return, because Matsukawa’s always been perceptive, and more patient than Oikawa remembers.

He links his pinky with Matsukawa’s in a gesture of affection, leans over to press a kiss to the corner of Matsukawa’s mouth. It isn’t the love he thought he would have, but he thinks that this is love enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually written for HQSummerHols, but I gave it up for the Bokuroo instead.
> 
> So if anyone's noticed, the flowers are loosely arranged by the season they bloom in, and encompass about the time span of a year. (:
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Any kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. <3
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ewagan).


End file.
